Forget Me Not
by jurika
Summary: [DMHP] Draco doesn't want a relationship. Not after what happened five years ago. But during his fifth year at Hogwarts, he receives various flowers from a secret admirer who is determined to win him over.
1. Red Rose

This is for my dear Akira J. S. because it was her stories that inspired me to write Harry Potter fan fiction instead of Yugioh and because she's my best friend. She probably won't find out about this story anytime soon though... (hides it under a rock)

**Notes:** One, this is my first HP fan fiction. Be nice. Kidding! Two, the plot is from one of my own original stories and it's unfinished. So if and when things start getting random, private message me or something. Three, constructive criticism is good for me. But flames don't help. Read and review, please?

**Chapter warnings:** AU, super OOC and BL. And I might write limes or lemons in the future chapters (if there are any future chapters), but only if I feel like it. You've been warned.

**Disclaimer:** I don't own Harry Potter.

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**Chapter One:** Red roses

When I was ten, I had a boyfriend. We were a happy couple. He radiated happiness whenever I was around him. That happiness was intoxicating. He was intoxicating. Now, before you all go _'Aw, that's so cute...'_, the first thing you need to know is that I'm a boy too. Not so cute now, is it? Well anyway, Even though many people disapproved of our relationship, we ignored their comments. What the hell do close-minded people know?

But, you know, the clue word is had. Look at the first sentence, if you didn't catch that. No, it wasn't because we had an argument. It wasn't because we stopped loving each other. And it certainly wasn't because those fucking homophobes started to influence our way of thinking. It was because I had to move away to England.

I love my father- I really do, but sometimes, I wonder why he had decided to drag me here. He knows how I feel about this boy, and he doesn't even mind. I asked him a billion times why. He's always changing the subject. He has never gave me a straight answer as of yet.

I was reluctant to tell my boyfriend the bad- no, horrible news, but imagine what would happen if I told him the day before I left. If I put myself in his shoes- if he were the one to leave, the thought of killing myself would be the first thing in my mind. I didn't want that. I told him right after my father mentioned it to me and that would be a month before we left. He was devastated. We spent the rest of the month together; many people would describe us as inseparable during the few fleeting moments we had left.

Before I left, he gave me a silver ring and a bouquet of flowers. Forget-Me-Nots. _The silver ring_, he told me, _is so that when we see each other again, we'll know._ He slipped it on my left hand's ring finger and I haven't taken it off, even until now. He also had another ring exactly like the one he gave me and put it on his own ring finger. _And in flower language, the Forget-Me-Nots symbolize our true love and memories._ Whenever I remember that, I can't help but laugh. I laughed with tears in my eyes. How long do you think I have to wait, before I can see him again? Do you think I'll even see him anytime soon?

Look at me now. I've forgotten his name and what he looks like. I turned into a bitter, lonely, moody and might I add, very sexy fifteen year old boy with a bad attitude. Would he still love me, even after what I've become?

* * *

The doorbell was ringing quite loudly. Continuously. The sound was beginning to annoy me. Why wasn't anybody answering the stupid door? I gritted my teeth, irritated, and hurried to the entrance. "I'm coming already! Will you fucking stop doing that?" I bellowed. The ringing ceased and I assumed that the person heard me. I slammed the door open, ready to curse at him, but when I looked outside, there was no one there.

Practical joke? Shit, I can't believe I fell for that one. If I ever meet that jerk, I'm going to- Wait, aren't those flowers? There was a bouquet on the porch. I pick it up carefully, and read the card that came with it. I redden visibly and bring the flowers inside. The card had read, _Red roses because I love you. Thorn less because it was love at first sight._ I lay down on the couch and wondered who sent it. Is it even for me? I doubt it. I flipped the card over to see if there was any name, any indication of who sent it. There was none. My eyes widen when I see my name written in beautiful golden letters.

I have a secret admirer. I felt giddy at the idea. Jeez, how very girly of me. I wonder who it could be. It's probably someone not really close to me. Perhaps, I don't even know he is. Yes, I'm absolutely sure it's a boy. The gift was rather simple and even though, it was still full of meaning. If a girl had planned to send me something like this, it would be overly decorated. Maybe that's one of the factors to why I prefer men.

I fingered the delicate petals of the beautiful red rose. It brought such a huge impact on me. I wonder why...

"I'm home!"

Way to break the moment, father. I roll my eyes and set the bouquet down, gently, on the table. I make my way to the hallway and greet my dad. It has been a while since I last saw him, since he was... out. I don't even know where the hell 'out' is. Honestly, I think he keeps too many secrets from me. He doesn't even tell me where he goes. It troubles me.

"How was your day," he asked me, his face showing no interest whatsoever.

"So-so." I shrug. "Though it's undeniably boring being home alone. What about you, father?"

"Same."

He took his shoes off, put on house slippers and made his way to the living room. I tagged along, quietly; almost sure he didn't notice that I was following him. I sat down on the couch; _my_ couch. The one I've been sitting on all day long. It was the only thing keeping me company in this boring room.

"Where did those flowers come from?"

Ooh, I almost forgot. "I don't know. Someone left in on the porch."

"And I suppose you went to fetch it without knowing it was there?" He rolled his eyes. "Details. Now."

"Someone abusing the poor doorbell and no one was answering, so I went there to give the said person a piece of my mind."

"Which would be, 'Fuck off or I'll kill you'." He chuckled. He understood me.

"Exactly. Well, moving on, I found the flowers there and he was long gone."

"He?"

"What kind of woman would abuse a stupid doorbell?"

"Your mom."

"Oh." I thought about it for a while. "I suppose she's special."

"Anything else?"

"A card came with it." I held it out and he promptly snatched it.

"'Draco Malfoy. Red roses because I love you. Thorn less because it was love at first sight.'" He read it aloud, making me feel embarrassed. He picked up the bouquet and placed the card inside. His mouth curved into a smirk and he suggestively stated, "Yes, wouldn't it be just _wonderful_ if it was a boy."

I snatch it out of his hands. "That's..." I trailed off.

"Then, maybe you can get a love interest. I know you'll give this boy a chance but you know, I do want grandkids. Start giving girls chances too, even-"

"You know I wouldn't date Pansy Parkinson!" I yelled indignantly, cringing at the thought. "Not in this lifetime!"

"What about the next?"

"Father!"

This is how it is with him. He doesn't feel like a father figure to me. More along the lines of 'best friend' or 'someone who listens'. We've changed, both of us. Seven years ago, he was very different. Sometimes, I find that I can't believe that horrible man back then is now... nice. If not, a little less than sane, but more or less, decent.

And this was as normal as we could get. After Dobby, our house elf, has disappeared, my mother hired three maids to take his place. Their names are Sarah, Emily and Theresa. Muggles, of all creatures. I wonder what she was thinking. We had to transfigure most of our things to appear like 'normal' Muggle items. My father even went as far as buying those weird contraptions they call computers. Nobody really uses it though. It just gathers dust in the corner of my room.

My acting skills have also probably gotten better, especially since I have to pretend that I'm not a wizard. It was difficult during the first month. They were prying. I just kept on mentioning things unknown to the Muggles and those things sparked their curiosity. It's not really as bothersome as some may think. Father just gets tired of erasing their memories over and over again.

Thankfully, I'll be staying at Hogwarts in a few days. I told Sarah and the others that I'll be attending a boarding school and I won't be seeing them until next year. That was my excuse. They were disappointed. They were hoping that we could spend more time together. To get to know each other better, they explained. I forced a smile and told them that we have time for that when I get back. That got them off my back.

No, I don't really dislike Muggles. I just have this superiority complex. If you were a wizard, wouldn't you feel like you're better than them? I mean, we can use magic and all, while they have to work their asses off just to get everything done. Though it is quite amusing to watch them. Plus, I hate pretending to be like someone else so going to Hogwarts is a good thing. I don't want to be anything other than me.

* * *

Right now, I'm on the Hogwarts Express. It's my fifth year at Hogwarts and I'm a prefect. Surprised? Hmm, Slytherins don't really need prefects; they only need them when they're around people from the other houses. And, well, I don't plan on using my position much, only when things get out of hand.

"Draco, dear!"

Oh my god. I nearly forgot. _She_'s a prefect as well. I resist the urge to sigh. "Hello, Parkinson," I say coolly. "Sorry, but I was about to go anyway." I hurried past her, hoping she got the message. Apparently not since I heard her sigh blissfully and giggle. What do I need to do to keep her away from me? A restraining order?

I walk quickly to the back of the train. I open the last door, hoping nobody was inside but there was a boy, around my age, with messy black hair that was sticking out everywhere, green eyes and a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead. He turned to me, looking surprised. I frowned and glared at him. I'm a Malfoy. I have to look cool and intimidating. "Is anyone sitting here?" I gestured to the empty seats.

He shook his head.

"May I sit here, then?"

He nodded.

I haven't seen him before. Maybe he's in Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw. I don't really pay attention to the people in those two houses. I looked outside the window and stared at the scenery. Beautiful and green. Just like that boy's eyes. I glance at him and found that he was staring at me. He looked deep in thought. I smirked. That's right. Admire me.

"My name's Draco Malfoy," I say suddenly, pulling him out of dreamland. "What's yours?"

"Harry Potter." He smiled. "A pleasure to meet you."

"Likewise," I reply dryly.

It was awkward at first, I admit, but it still qualifies as a conversation and it's far more entertaining than sitting here and saying nothing. And it only felt uncomfortable just until I asked him, "What do you think of Dumbledore?"

"Who?"

I stared at him incredulously, raising an eyebrow. "Our headmaster. Everyone knows that."

"Oh." He grins sheepishly. "Well, I don't know. I haven't seen or met him yet."

I stayed silent for quite a while. Here is a boy, probably in the fifth year and he hasn't seen or met Albus Dumbledore. Unbelievable. I tried to think of how that could be possible but came up with none.I get rid of my facade and frowned childishly. "I don't get it."

"I'm what you call an exchange student," he explained. "I used to study in Durmstrang. Then, I switched schools and ended up here."

"Oh. Why?"

"I've got my reasons." He obviously didn't want to talk about it.

I'm actually a bit relieved that he wasn't in any house just yet. He could be in Slytherin with me. At least, then, I'll have someone to hang out with as a friend. Crabbe and Goyle hardly count as friends. We continued talking.

Harry Potter is an interesting kid. His parents died when he was a baby, murdered apparently, and he's been living with his Muggle relatives just until he turned eight. He also had no idea he was going to become a wizard until his godfather, Sirius Black, found him, told him about the great news and asked him to leave the Dursleys and live with him instead. When he asked about my life, I laughed and told him, "My life is boring with a capital B compared to yours. There's not much to tell." He grinned at that comment and urged me to tell him anything about me. So I did. "Everyone loves me."

He raised an eyebrow at that and snickered. "Yeah, right. And I'm the best Quidditch player in the world."

It was like having a little brother... that was the same age as me. "Just recently, I received a bouquet of roses and a love note from a secret admirer." He stopped laughing abruptly and stared at me. I smirked again. "I don't suppose that has happened to you before, has it?"

He was silent for a while, for reasons I didn't know about. He smiled mischievously. "You don't happen to have proof of that, would you?"

"What, do you think the flowers are in my baggage? I left them at home."

"Then I won't believe you." He stuck his tongue out, childishly. Yes, definitely annoying little brother material.

"Maybe if you comb your hair, something like that will happen to you," I suggested, pulling at a stray lock.

He let out an upset noise and folded his arms. "I do comb my hair. It just doesn't stay where I want it to stay."

This year will definitely be and interesting year.

* * *

"Taylor, Karen!" That was Professor McGonagall, the head of the Gryffindor house called. She was still wearing those square-framed glasses and her black hair was tied back neatly into a bun. As usual.

"Ravenclaw," the Sorting Hat yelled, barely even touching that girl's head.

"Williams, Adrian," she called while adjusting her glasses, squinting slightly.

"Gryffindor!"

"And finally, we have a special new student. He was originally from Durmstrang and will be continuing his studies here. Potter, Harry!"

_This is it. Slytherin, Slytherin. Please be Slytherin._ My, that was very un-Malfoy-like. But right now, I don't give a damn. I bit my lip. It sure is taking that ragged, old hat a long time to choose.

Finally, the hat shouted aloud its decision. "Gryffindor!"

I felt my stomach tie itself in knots. Just when I thought I had a new friend. I frowned. Stupid hat, stupid decision, stupid Gryffindor. I watched him sit down beside those Weasely twins, shaking hands with pretty much everyone and having a great time. He finally spotted me and waved. I returned it with a scowl and looked away, not caring about what he might think.

I can never befriend someone who's not from Slytherin.

He's an enemy now.

* * *

And that's it for the first chapter! I hope the next ones will be as long as this one. I'll update faster if I get lots of reviews. (winks) Joking, again. 


	2. Yellow Tulip

I'm so sorry for not updating sooner. I've been … busy, haha. (shot)

**Notes: **This chapter is considerably shorter than the first one. I really don't know how to continue it anymore. Each chapter has a different flower and I'm wondering how many chapters would be appropriate.

**Chapter warnings:** AU, super OOC and BL.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Harry Potter.

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**Chapter two:** Yellow Tulip

I haven't spoken Harry Potter since the Sorting Ceremony and that was about two weeks ago. I, myself, am amazed at how successful I've been so far at avoiding the said boy. I see him all the time in the Great Hall where we have breakfast and in class. Sometimes, I catch him looking at me, maybe even staring, and it's been frustrating, really. Doesn't he get it? Slytherins do not befriend people from the other houses; it's like an unwritten law. Surely, his new _friends_ had mentioned this well-known fact.

It's the middle of September now. I was writing to my father about how I was doing, what lessons they've started to give us and even about Potter. I also didn't want those three Muggles to worry about me for no good reason. I guess I should also write a separate one for them. Father can pass it on, I suppose. I dipped the tip of my quill into a bottle of ink and began to write. Later on, I tied it to my owl's leg and let it fly away.

The next day, during breakfast, my owl came back with a package and a letter. I opened the package first and found a flower and a card. My heartbeat sped and I picked up the card. This time, it read, _A yellow tulip because there is sunshine in your smile._ I felt a blush creep across my face, my cheeks getting warm. It was from _him_. I glanced around; making sure no one was looking and closed the package. Then, I opened the letter. It was from father.

_My dear son,_

_I'm happy to hear that you're doing fine. Sarah, Emily and Theresa were pleased to have received a letter from you. If they decide to send in a reply, I'll send you an owl. By the way, another present from your secret admirer arrived. It came by owl too, actually, and I replied, telling him that you're in Hogwarts now. Aren't you glad it's a wizard? I'd love to tease you about it, but I'm quite busy right now._

_Until next time,_

_Your father_

I sighed to myself. That's my father for you; always ruining the moment. But still, I'm thrilled that I got another message from my secret admirer. But I am kind of getting tired of calling him that so I thought, why not give him a name? I guess I should start thinking about one…

I gathered my things and headed for the Slytherin common room. I still had over half an hour anyway. I reached my room and put them on my bed. I looked through my trunk and reached for a vase my father bought for me _just in case_. I'm glad I brought it and I placed the tulip inside the vase and set it up beside my bed. I smiled, satisfied and grabbed the books I needed for my next class.

I found Crabbe and Goyle standing at the entrance of the common room and they greeted me. I gave them that old Malfoy glare and said, "What's up?" Goyle shuffled uncomfortably and Crabbe looked away. That can not be a good sign. I wonder what's eating them.

"You know that new kid, Harry Potter, right?" Goyle said slowly, seeming unsure of himself. They were both like that, actually. I nodded, forcing myself to look like I didn't give a damn about the new Gryffindor. "He's always looking at you."

"What?"

Crabbe continued, "We catch him staring at you all the time. But we don't know why he does it."

This piece of information didn't surprise me; it didn't surprise me at all. Potter was acting rather predictable. He just ruined my good mood. I rolled my eyes and scowled. "Whatever. I don't care." And with that, I left the common room and headed to class. I heard that there were seeker tryouts for Gryffindor tomorrow and if my instincts are right, I'll probably find Potter there. Then, it'll really be over.

Suddenly, my insides felt so empty.

* * *

When I arrived, the tryouts were already over. I was a safe distance away, thankfully. The Gryffindors were cheering, hooting and congratulating their new teammate, whoever it was. I looked around carefully and finally spotted Potter in the middle of that crowd. I stood there for a while, wondering how to catch his attention without doing something drastic and looking like an idiot. Luckily, he spotted me and I quickly started to walk away, hoping he would follow. I felt instinctively that he would understand.

I leaned on a trunk of a willow tree, waiting. And then, I felt a hand rest on my shoulder. Of course, it was Potter's. When I look up at him, I saw that his hair was messier than usual; he was panting also, but his eyes still sparkled like they had when I met him. "Hey," I said softly.

"Hey," he replied with a grin, running a hand through his messy hair. "You should have come sooner. Then you would've seen me in action."

"I suppose that means you're the new seeker. Congratulations."

"Thanks."

It was quiet for a while. Neither of us knew exactly what to say to the other after all this time. I'm almost sure that once we finish this silly conversation, he would no longer consider me as a friend. Then again, when did we decide that we were? I'd better get this over with.

"Potter, it's over," I declare, looking at him straight in the eye. He was startled and I watched those green orbs of his widen. "Don't ever talk to me again after this."

"Wait, what-?"

I guess I could humor him for a couple more minutes. "You heard me," I replied.

When the words finally sank in, he looked at me with an unreadable expression. "Why?"

"Haven't your friends told you? Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs can be you pals. But Slytherins? Never."

"Look, I don't know what's gotten into you, but what I really want to know is why you've been avoiding me and why you're treating me like this all of the sudden."

"Oh, Lord. Let me rephrase it, then. I won't be friends with a Gryffindor."

"Why? Before, on the train, weren't we friends then?"

"Yes, we were and I'm not sure how else I can explain this to you, but if that fucking Sorting Hat placed you in Slytherin, we wouldn't even be having this ridiculous conversation."

"If you think it's ridiculous, then why are we still talking?"

"Fine! Enough with your questions! I'm leaving."

"That's unfair! You coward!" he exclaimed, grabbing my arm.

"Let me go. Now."

"Even if I became a Slytherin, I'd still be the same person! How can something so insignificant as being in different houses get in the way of our friendship?"

"Oh, come off it! You have your new friends to hang out with-"

"I don't have any."

"Huh?"

"Friends. I don't have any friends."

"…you're kidding me."

"Well, it's your fault, lying to me like that! Everyone loves you? They all looked at me funny when I said that I hung out with you on the train and thought that you were decent." He folded his arms, eyeing me with mock anger.

"Everyone in Slytherin. I could care less about what people from the other Houses think about me."

"You should've told me to go to Slytherin! Then, everything would've ended up just fine."

"You can't choose which House you'll end up in. Are you an idiot?"

"I can too! The Sorting Hat told me I could choose between Slytherin and Gryffindor."

"If that's true, then why didn't you choose Slytherin?"

"I would have, if that hat hadn't started talking crap about how I was destined to go there. Would you have gone there if it said the same things to you?"

"I probably would have, seeing as my father was placed there too."

"Will you think about my situation!?"

Nice. A couple of minutes suddenly became fifteen.

"Fine," Harry said suddenly. "I'll stop staring at you and I won't try to talk to you in Hogwarts, but can we still be friends under this tree?"

I felt my mouth curve into a smirk. "You stare at me?"

"Malfoy!"

He'd turned a nice shade of red.

* * *

In the end, things didn't work out as I had planned. I had gone there with the intention of breaking any bond I had with Potter. Instead, I somehow agreed to hang out with him secretly. I don't really regret my decision. It _might_ work out. Or rather, I hope it will.

"This is all wrong," I said, flipping through the pages his Potions' report. I shot a quick glance at Potter, who was lying down on the grass with his eyes closed.

"I crammed it all in last night. What do you expect?"

I glared at him and shook my head. If he fails this year, I know it's not my fault. Can anyone even fail in this school? … He'd be the first.

"It's not like he cares if my answers are right or wrong," he muttered, rolling onto his stomach, burying his face in his arms. "Snape loves to pick on me. He'd do anything to have that chance. You saw what happened last time."

"Potter…"

"Malfoy…"

I sighed. "Well then, any new _friends_?"

"Ron Weasely and Hermione Granger."

I wrinkled my nose. "Weasel and Mudblood? … Ouch! Hey!" He had slapped my arm.

"Don't call them that," he whined. "They're my friends."

"And you think they're mine?" I replied in a sarcastic tone. "I already told you…"

"Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs can be you pals. But Slytherins? Never." He interrupted me in singsong voice, taking off his glasses and studying them. "So does that make me special?"

"…Probably," I shrugged it off.

"I think I need new glasses." He waved those thick black-framed glasses of his in front of my face. I saw that it had been snapped in half before and was now taped together. Not to mention, it looked old and worn out.

"Who did that?" I asked, snatching them out his hand.

"It was my cousin. He bullied me a lot, but that was before I found out I was… different."

I rolled my eyes. I was expecting something much cooler than his cousin breaking his glasses. "Not different," I muttered. "Special."

He smiled.


End file.
